| Description | Interview with Mrs Ethel M. Smith (nee Rennie), recorded on 11 November 1993 by Myrtle Anderson-Smith with Mary Williamson.
Continuation of interview on MS 3620/1/97/1
Transcription of Interview :
W: [Principal George] Adam Smith. Have you recollections of him?
S: Adam Smith? Well, as a matter of fact, his son lived in the same parish as my husband went to took over, and the Adam Smiths retired to Balerno, where my husband went after we came home, and he had just died before we went there. But Lady Adam Smith was still there for a little while before she died. And it was very nice to see them. She was one of the first people that came to call at the manse, when we went there. Delightful old lady, she was, by that time, Lady Adam Smith.
AS: Do you remember her at University? I believe she was very active?
S: Yes, yes. But by the time I knew her, at that time she was not able to do anything like that. She was very keen on the University Women's Group in Edinburgh. She ran that, yes, and they used to have dinners. But that was before I, before I went to live there. Because after my university was finished, I taught for a few years, at the Chapel of Garioch, actually, just for a few years, and then I went to with my husband to Czechoslovakia. He was appointed as minister to the British congregation there.
AS: So that was in the 1930s?
S: 1935, yes.
AS: So, you went straight there when you were married?
S: After we were married, yes. He had been appointed before we were actually married, and then we were married. So we were there during the we would have been it was meant to be an appointment for as long as he wanted. But, of course, the German army occupied Prague in '39, so we had to leave. But our main duty, our main work that we really did when we were there was coping with refugees, Jewish and Jewish Christian refugees, who were at that time fleeing from the Nazi concentration camps in Germany, you see. And a lot of them came to Prague. Of course, they knew after the Munich, particularly after the Munich Treaty, they knew that Prague would be the next object, and they had to get away. Even before that, they wanted to go away. So that was what we were doing. Helping them.
AS: Right from 1935?
S: '35, yes. We very quickly got involved. Because my husband had been in Germany in 1933, as a student, - as a student he studied in Tubingen - and he knew the situation, and he was very interested in the follow-on in Prague. So we were very quickly involved in trying to help these people get away. And we had to get transports together, and all that sort of thing, you see, to help to get them away. And at that time, of course, we had to arrange with the Church of Scotland to try to get money, and there was a special committee which did get a lot of money at that time to help to get with these transports and help these people who were fleeing from the Nazi concentration camps. And, of course, we got our last transport was all ready to go, and then, just before Hitler came - he came before the visas arrived - and, of course, you couldn't go anywhere without a visa - and there were no visas came, because the transport was completely blocked, the air transport, and we had to try and get some way of getting them out, the ones that had been arranged to get out. So, well, miraculously, we went. Robert, my husband, went to an army man, who was in charge of the army, but not an SS,- they were the villains of the piece - and he kind of thought, well, he didn't know much about this business … Why did we want to go? And all this sort of thing, and Robert explained as far as he could, without saying too much, and he said, "Well, if you bring me a list of names, that will do all right". So we went with the list of names, and he said, "Well, if these people go, you must go with them; they can't go alone, you have to go with them." And the only way to go with them was across Germany, you see. Now, they had no papers, or anything. And this man just wrote on this piece of paper, "These people are to be allowed to cross Germany without let or hindrance, and signed his name. And that was all. We had to cross Germany with about sixty seventy people. There was another girl, a Quaker, who had been over, and she had been trying to help as well. So that was our journey. We crossed Germany with these people. And that was how we left, in 1939, just before the war started.
AS: And it went smoothly?
S: Well, it went. It was a really horrendous journey, but we got out safely. We were locked up the first night in Dresden. And we didn't know whether we would be allowed to go on the next day. But, well, they just … My husband was … I don't know, he managed to talk to the people and he got on to them, and we were coupled on to the next train going, and we got to Leipzig, I think it was. And we had all to get out of the train in Leipzig and be searched - you know, everybody searched - terrible this searching, and then, back in again after a wee while, and then we got to Hanover, and then they did it again. One searching everybody. It was a horrendous journey. And, well, when we got nearly to Holland, we stopped before we came to the frontier. And, I don't know, there was a lot of noise, shouting, I remember that, shouting at the carriage, I remember. How they knew they were Jews, I don't know, but they were, or Jewish, some of them were Christian Jews actually. And then we finally got into Holland. Now we had actually, before we left Prague, we had sent telegrams home to our Committee and to the Home Office, and my husband sent a telegram to somebody in Holland, whom he knew, to say we were on our way, because we thought, if we let them know, they'll know where we are; if we get lost, they'll know where to look for us, you know. But we couldn't have done anything if they had come and taken us to go away. You couldn't have done anything. Because we had no authority, or anything, just trust in God. So that was the last transport. So we weren't allowed back after that, of course, because the war was just about to start anyway. But they wouldn't give us a visa to go back. After that there were two men from London who did go over to Czechoslovakia and brought out children, we called them Kindertransport - children's transports - they got their name, they just took the children - their parents were very willing for them to go, they knew that it was the only way. You didn't see a film on the television the other night, it was called Music from Terezin No? A very interesting film about what had happened. Terezin was a concentration camp in Czechoslovakia, just north of Prague, where a lot of the Jews were collected, had to go, hundreds by hundreds, you know, as a kind of passing through place. They were taken to Auschwitz. … It was very good that film. But that was what was our experience after our marriage.
AS: It must have been a very brave decision to go into a situation like that?
S: Well, it was very serious ... It was the only thing we could do, you know. You just get landed with a situation and you do something.
AS: When you decided to go with your husband to Prague, you must have known that there were going to be dangers?
S: It wasn't, I suppose, in the days in 1935, although it was pretty obvious to those who were wise enough to know that there would be trouble. We just always hoped that it wouldn't come quite so bad as it was. It was very bad indeed. We went back after the War and it was just about as bad after the War as it was before the War.
AS: When did you go back?
S: We went back in '45, immediately the War ended. We went back in a bomber on that occasion, because there was no transport, because all the railways in Germany were destroyed. And there was no air transport, so except we went by this bomber, which was rather fun, because you sat on your luggage where the bombs had been. And there were just a number of people who were Czechs and who had been in London when the War started and they were going home. We were also going home, so we got transport. And it was extraordinary. The country, when we got there, it was completely denuded. There was nothing, hardly any food. Nobody had anything to eat hardly. You got tickets for everything, everything. And you had to be very careful with your tickets to make them last out, you see. It was very difficult. And then, you see, these Czech boys who had gone come over to Great Britain, got out of the country and gone some of them by all kinds of devious routes to get to Great Britain and fought with the RAF and with the British Army, and a lot of them were stationed in England and some in Scotland, and they married British girls. So here they were, coming back, you see, home, with their British wives and their children. Oh, dear, and there was no cod-liver oil, there was no milk, there was nothing. And these poor girls! What a job it was trying to get them settled in and help them in various ways and tell them what to do, and they couldn't speak the language, of course, which is a terrible language to learn, difficult. And, of course, then things got gradually worse, as it became more and more clear that it was going to be communist, that the Communists were really going to take over, because the Russians were there, you see. The Russians were allowed to come into Prague, to liberate Prague, instead of the Americans. If it had been the Americans that were allowed to come, it would have been quite different. But it was all agreed at Yalta that the Russians should come in. And so they did. And so the Russians were everywhere. And they were, they were terrible. They just went round the houses and took things that they thought they fancied. It really was rather terrible bad, terrible bad time. And, of course, these poor girls. Well, as time went on, it also became clear that these boys who had fought in the Western army, - some of them remained in the army, the Czech Army - that they were going to have trouble. And they began to lose their jobs and they were dismissed from them and they were not accepted because they had been in the West. The ones that had been on the Russian side, they were all right, but not if you had been in the West. Anything Western was taboo. And so the girls gradually decided they should just go home. It was the only thing to do, with these children. So they just faded away. And by the time it was 1948, when the actual revolution took place, when the Russians took over, our congregation had more or less disappeared, you know. Not that that was important, and, well, that was one of the reasons we had gone back. But, and then it became even more obvious that anybody that had anything to do with Westerners was suspect. So we really had to leave, because we were a liability to our friends. "What are you doing? Why are you friends with these people? These people are from the West." We weren't accepted here from the West. And that was the beginning of the real … it was even worse, I think, during the Communist regime than it was during the German regime. It was bad enough during the German regime, but it was terrible for the people.
AS: So you left in 1948?
S: So we left in 1948, when the revolution took place. And that was when we went to Balerno. But we were able to keep in touch, miraculously, one way and another. After Stalin died, things eased up a wee bit, and the Czechs began to think, "Oh, well, they'll maybe manage, you know, to change things, and get things more into their own way of thinking" and so on; and, of course, then they had the sort of minor revolution, when it was the Prague Spring called. And we went back. We went back on one occasion for a holiday. After Stalin died, as I said, it eased up. We went back for a holiday; that was the first. No, I think my husband was back at a conference before that, and then we went for this holiday. It was quite amusing, really, because we were watched, you know, on that occasion, but nothing happened. And then we were back in '68, and that was just after the Prague Spring, and they were still hopeful that maybe they would salvage something. But, of course, you know, the Russian tanks just, just wiped them out, really. There was no hope at all. And after that, from 1968 until '89, it was worst, worst time of all. We were refused visas. Twice we tried to go and twice they arranged it. It was all arranged from the Czech side, you know, and they were promised, Oh, yes, they'll get visas no bother, but we didn't. And so we didn't get back until after the revolution. And I went back the next year after the revolution. My husband had died just before. He didn't go.
AS: And do you still have some friends and contacts there?
S: Oh, yes, a lot of friends, because we were able to keep in touch by letter. My husband was clever at writing. He never said anything you shouldn't say, because it was dangerous. And so we kept in touch with the, with the friends. But, of course, the friends that we had made in the beginning, it was their sons and daughters, you see, because a lot of them had gone, not all, but a lot. And then I'm down now to the grandchildren, you see. It's amazing, really, all these years. And when I went back the first time, it really was quite amazing, the range of people that I met, from There was one old man and he was ninety who insisted on coming to see me. I said I could go and see him. "Oh, no, no", he would come and see me. So he came, ninety. He remembered us from the first from before the War. There were a lot of other people also who remembered us. I still keep up with friends, still write to them, get letters and I've forgotten the language, unfortunately. I could speak it reasonably well before the War, because we had to learn it. But, you know, you don't remember after all these years, if you're not using it. And I have an awful job now when they send me things in Czech, trying to make out what it's all about, using a dictionary, which is an awful bind. But ...
W: The church was kept quite alive in Czechoslovakia?
S: Well, it was They had a very bad time, actually. They were very closely watched. They were allowed to meet for worship, but they just were allowed to meet for prayer, praise and the reading of Scripture and the sermon, only that, nothing else; no organisations; there was no teaching of religion in schools at all; it wasn't allowed. And so, that's just what they did. They met for worship. And so the church has survived, although I would say depleted in numbers, because, if you were a Christian, well, you mightn't be allowed to do certain jobs, because, you know, you were a Christian. You didn't get promotion, perhaps. Your children wouldn't be allowed to go on at school, or to get to university, perhaps. It depended a lot on the There were these so-called committees they had in the various towns and regions, and they were some of them were awfully stupid people, you know. But you just had to do the best you could. All sorts of things, the ministers were always being called up to the secret police to be questioned, and a lot of them lost their jobs, of course, they were demoted; they were just debarred from preaching; they just had to go and get There was one man, who was in one of the biggest churches in Prague, and he was in he was sent to sweep floors in a factory. There was another man, and he was sent to make boxes. That sort of thing. We've one man in Glasgow, who's a minister in Glasgow, and he was debarred from his charge. And it happened that one of our men from Edinburgh was over in Prague and met him, and he said in a joke, "Do you think the Church of Scotland would have any use for a redundant minister?" And this, this man who's Secretary of the Overseas Committee, he said, "Well, I don't know; why not?" This man, he could speak perfect English. So he came home, and he got together with the various people who were in charge and said, "Well, do you think we could ask him?" So he was invited to come, and he's now a minister in Glasgow, and a very good minister he is, too. You wouldn't know that he wasn't a Scot. So, you see, the church survived, but only . Well, it survived and the Communists didn't survive, and the Nazis didn't survive, but the church has survived. But now, they're having difficulties, of course, as usual with all the various new regulations, and so forth, but they're still going on. And, of course, because my husband was a minister, naturally they're the people I know. Yes, I go and stay with them. I've been three times since the revolution. They always say, You must come because we're going to have something or other - a celebration of this, that - you must come; can't have it if you don't come. So I say, "Aye, you just think up these celebrations in order to ask me to come." But the church in which my husband had the services is a very, very ancient church. It had its roots away back in the eleventh century. It had been at one time a kind of it had been run by nuns at one time way back in these very early days, and was built into the Wall of Prague, which was a much smaller town then, you know, in the eleventh century, and it's called St Martin-in-the-Wall. And they had a nunnery, I think, and they had also a church. Well, of course, the gradual changes took place, and all the rest of it, and this church, St Martin's, fell, well, I think, it fell into disrepair for a wee while, but then it was reconstructed and it was kept all these years and, of course, in these days Czechoslovakia became Protestant, because Jan Hus - maybe have you heard of him?- He was the very first Reformer, and he was a Czech; he was from Bohemia. And in that church in Prague, in that St Martin's, St Martin-in-the-Wall, he, or one of his associates - now, I'm not absolutely certain - conducted communion in two kinds for the first time; that was the first sort of Reformation service, you know. So that church was still in use, and that's where we had our services. The church belongs to the City of Prague now, and it has been given over to the care of the Czech Brethren Church. Well, of course, we had services in it, it was allowed to go rather - I think it was dry rot it must have had in it - because when I went in the beginning, in the first year, second year, you weren't allowed in, because it was all being renovated. And they had taken out all the wood that was there, even the organ, because I think it was, they called it a fungus, I think that's what it was - and now it's all renovated. It's a beautiful roof, pure Gothic roof; and the windows are marvellous, wonderful, absolutely original as they have been for hundreds of years, and it's now very plain, very simple, not much decoration, but So I had to go back for the rededication; that was an excuse. But I was very pleased to go back for that. But, you know, it's all very interesting. [But I think I ramble on a lot]
AS: I've been wondering if any of the Jews that you helped to escape managed to keep in touch with you?
S: Yes. A number A lot of them didn't stay here, of course. They went abroad: America, where they had relations, and Australia, even, and various other places. And we my husband was looking after them during the War as well, because he was seconded by the Church to do that work. And we have still kept up with There are still some that we keep up with. A lot of them have gone, of course, you know. But some of the younger, some of the children, who were children, still remember. And one, we just maybe exchange Christmas cards, now, and that, but there are one or two still, yes. Now, some of them did very well, actually. But it was funny, because, at my husband's funeral, out of the blue, somebody came and said to me, You know, there's a lady here from Czechoslovakia. Well, I didn't know who … I thought it was somebody on holiday. And it was one of these girls who had been looked after by my husband, and she'd seen his death in the paper, and she said, "Well, I must come to the funeral" Now, she said, "I used to come to your house, in the War. Don't you remember?" Well, I'd actually forgotten her name. But, I remembered after a while, but I got such a surprise, you know. And she married a Scot, this girl. She's a Mrs Douglas. But an awfully nice girl she was, yes. Well, she's not a girl now, she's a grown woman, of course; she's in her sixties by this time. It's awful, isn't it?
AS: So where were you based during the War?
S: Well, we had a choice. My husband had two jobs and he could have stayed we could have stayed in London and he could have travelled to Edinburgh; or, we could have stayed in Edinburgh and travelled to London. So, I said, we'll stay in Edinburgh! And he travelled to London. So he was travelling all the time, up and down, because, apart from being in charge of all these refugees, - it was Scottish Churches Council for Refugees, which had been set up by the churches, not only our church, but other churches, as well, and even the Jews co-operated, and they set that up in order to raise money and help out these people and get places for them to stay and work, more or less,- he was put in charge of that. And then he was also in charge of what was then called the International Missionary Council, particularly concerned with the Christian approach to the Jews, which is now World Council of Churches; but that was the London-based office that he had. So he travelled up and down, bombs and all, during the War, you know. It was a lot of It was a stressful kind of situation, but he was interested and, it was good that he did it, because it was quite valuable work that he did.
AS: And after 1948 did he have a charge?
S: Yes, we went to Balerno. The only other place that had any vacancies, that he could have gone to, was Palestine, to Jerusalem; but I think we'd had enough of war and its troubles, tribulations, and we decided. "No, no, we said, we'll get a charge at home." But he still kept on, you see, with his work, with the World Council, for quite a long time, and edited a magazine, and so on, until he was ill, and then he had to stop; the doctor said, "No more." But he recovered; but he didn't go on with that again, though, he just had his charge, and that was that.
AS: Until he retired?
S: Until he retired, yes.
AS: That was in 1972?
S: 1972, yes, when we came to live here, yes. So we were It's been a very exciting kind of, upside down kind of life: always something happening that you weren't sure, you know. But, still.
W: The Jewish refugees that you met, were they coming to you with stories of the atrocities in camps? I mean, was it known among them at that time what was going on? Because so often you get the impression that nobody knew what was happening in camps?
S: Everybody knew. Everybody knew. Everybody knew what was happening. The Jews certainly knew all about it. Oh, yes, there's no question about that at all. It was terrible. And, of course, these Jews were Jews who were coming in from Germany, that we were working with, but, you see, as soon as the Germans came into Prague, the whole thing started in Czechoslovakia - the same story. We were friendly with a lot of Jews, and, as I say, my husband had an interest in Jews, and he was President of a Jewish English-speaking club, which was purely Jewish, and you weren't allowed to speak anything but English. They were all Czechs, of course, but they wanted to learn English, and this was their way: now, you mustn't speak any other language; and that's why they wanted us to be there, I think. And, there was about a hundred and something of them. And when we went back after the War, we met one man who had survived Belsen, and one girl who was fair haired and didn't look Jewish at all and had escaped; she had never been taken, and that was all. And, oh, I can't begin to tell you the tragedies that happened, and all these people we knew, they were taken away to the gas chambers, etc. That's what this Music form Terezin, was a story about all the things that happened during the War until [they were all gassed]. It was a terrible time. It really was. It certainly was a terrible time. So everybody knew; there's no question about that. And, of course, the last time I was over in Prague I met quite a number …well, the German church is very conscious of what happened during the War. And they have, really, almost a guilt complex. They are quite aware. They say, "now we have to live with this, we know it happened, we must live with it." There's always now these neo-Nazis, you know, who are trying to pretend that it didn't happen, and so on. But it certainly happened. I mean, there's just no question. And the German church is very aware of it. And, of course, they themselves suffered as well under the Nazis, a lot of them, because people like Niemoller and Momsen - and Bonhoeffer, who were also imprisoned. And they are very anxious, I think, to make reparations. And they've been very kind to the Czech church. They've been visiting, and they've helped in many in some ways. And I met this group who had come to visit the church in Prague. And they came to visit my friends there, and we had a chat, and they were very conscious of the fact. This is what they say: We maybe didn't know all that was happening, but we did know. And people did know what was happening. There is no question. And so they've got to live with that. And it's no use trying to say that it didn't happen, because it did.[...]
AS: Since leaving university, you obviously have led a very full life ...
W: A useful life
AS: A very useful life, yes. Do you know what happened to some of your fellow graduates? What they Did they get jobs right away? And do you know what they did during the War, perhaps?
S: No, quite a number. I was Well, during the War I was in Edinburgh, I didn't meet so many of them then. I kept up with my own friends, but it's very easy to lose touch.
AS: Do you know what they did after graduation?
S: Well, of course, a lot of the girls wanted to be teachers, but they didn't get jobs. After the War it was very, very difficult to get jobs.
AS: Did they do the teacher training? and then couldn't get jobs.
S: They did the teacher training, and then couldn't get jobs. And a lot of them became secretaries, and that sort of thing. Some married, and, of course, if you married, that was the end. You weren't allowed to go on teaching if you were married. Of course, I married, you see, and, of course, went abroad, and there was no question; I wouldn't be teaching. But a lot of them went to England to get jobs, because there didn't seem to be any jobs in Scotland. I was very lucky; I got a job straight away. But I was just one of the fortunate ones, you know. And, well, of course, they all separated, and, as I say, some of them went abroad, and some of these the ones that became ministers, they got charges here, there and everywhere, you know. I didn't I knew a lot of them. I met them at General Assemblies and that sort of thing, when we came home from Prague; but I don't know: one's life got so full. And we kept up with some of the people. And, of course, my husband's friends He, too, had a lot of people that he had connections with, and we often had people to entertain, coming from here, there and everywhere, and we were still in a kind of international situation. If anybody came to the General Assembly, who came from somewhere that had a queer language, they used to say, Oh, just send them to the Smiths; they'll be able to cope with them, because my husband was good at languages. He could speak French and German, and he could always make out a bit of this, that and the next thing, you know. So we had a lot of international friends. Eric Duncan. I hadn't thought of Eric Duncan for years, until this lady asked if I knew him. I don't think I'd met him. We were in Geneva once and we met him. We went to his manse; he was minister there. And I think that was the last time I saw him; well, I mean, that's donkeys years ago. This has been the sort of life I've lived.
AS: So you were really very fortunate to get a job when you left Teacher Training College, you yourself?
S: Oh, yes. Yes, I got a job straight away, actually. I actually wanted to teach little children, but I got a job in Peterhead Academy, and I think the headmaster would have been quite happy for me to stay, but I wasn't all that keen on the bigger boys and girls.
AS: And, then, you'd been a pupil there were you?
S: Yes, yes. And, of course, I knew the headmaster; he knew me, anyway. Then I was transferred to this place, Chapel of Garioch, which is beside Bennachie, you know; couldn't be more out of the world, than any. And then from Bennachie. from there - out of the world - I was dumped in Prague, in the very heart of all the troubles that were going on. I don't quite know why that happened, why I was chosen to be thinking I was going to have a nice quiet life in a country manse. I don't know why it happened that I landed in the middle of all that trouble. But that has been the focus of our life ever since. You know, it's never been just ...
W: ... just ordinary...?
S: No. I was my husband's wife, and that's why.
AS: Shall we just try and sum up by asking what your outstanding memories of your time at University are, it that's not too tall an order? Can you think what you enjoyed most, what you gained most, over those years?
S: Well, I gained, of course. I think it was a very broadening, widening experience, and I was fortunate to meet a lot of people who were very fine people, and certainly had an influence on me and on my outlook on life in general.
AS: Amongst the staff and amongst the students?
S: The students, yes. They were my contemporaries, but I enjoyed their company, and I enjoyed what we did together. But some of the staff One person who was not actually University, but a very important person, was Professor Principal Cairns, who was Master of Christ's. Now, he was very closely connected with University, and he was - as I told you, I was very keen on SCM, and he was one of the people who used to come and take meetings, and so on. And, of course, it was interesting, when we went to Prague we met two professors, both of whom had studied under Principal Cairns in Aberdeen, before my our time, actually. A very famous person, a Professor Hromadka and another very fine Professor Soucek. Now the Soucek family I still am very friendly with; I had a letter from his daughter just this morning. Now Principal Cairns was a marvellous man, there's no doubt he was a very fine person: his talks, and he was great fun, of course, too. All the sorts of things: he used to go If we went to a conference, he often came to a conference. He was in He was the sort of person that could just sort of shed light on a subject. I enjoyed his I think he was one of the people that I really enjoyed. And, of course, then we read his books, and that was interesting.
AS: You say he was at Christ's College. Were Christ's College and the University Divinity Faculty much more separate then than they later became?
S: Well, of course, there's no Christ's College now, is there?
AS: Virtually not.
S: No, I don't think they've even got a Divinity Faculty at University.
AS: It's now part of the Arts and Divinity Faculty.
S: It's now .... yes, the Humanities, and so on, yes, yes. Christ's was separate. Christ's, you see, was the United Free. Although they were very closely connected, yes. But, the professors, of course, all these professors like Henderson, and Baird and Main, they all lived just round the King's College at one point, you know. Yes, yes. They were all Divinity professors. And, of course, the old Greek professor, Harrower, he lived just round the corner of the , just as you went out the gate, you know, at King's, that house; is it still there I think it's still there, round the corner, in one of these tall houses round the corner. He had a wee dog, about that size, and he used to go for little walks, with the dog, round the quad, you know. I remember him. Blanche was his wife. We called her Blanche, the Duchess, you know.
AS: And he regularly put on Greek plays. Did you get involved in those?
S: I didn't go. I wasn't a Greek scholar. So I didn't really get any good of that. My husband was the one. He was a Classics man, but I didn't do Classics.
AS: Professor Harrower's wife was very visible in the University. How did she get ...?
S: Well, of course, by the time I went to University they were both very old. He still lectured, I think. I can't remember the name of the man who was Moral Philosophy man. Didn't have him. I don't remember. He was an old man as well. But, I think University, for me, was a very good experience. I'm very glad I went there. I think I was fortunate to go, and because it was something that gave you a kind of broader outlook on everything; you weren't just thinking of your own little corner.
AS: Well, thank you very much indeed for sharing all these memories and experiences.
S: Well, it's a great pleasure. It's very nice for an old lady to sit and talk about what happened long ago, very pleasant indeed. Thank you very much for coming, yes.
End of Interview
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